Friends and Lovers
by Cats070911
Summary: When Barbara refuses to go to an award dinner, Winston implores Tommy to help him convince her. The result was not what any of them expected.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** all usual disclaimers apply. More fluffy romance, I'm afraid. This one was a dream. I woke up at 3 am, wrote down the basics, then fleshed this out into a series of little scenes. Fingers crossed.

For Sparklebright who appeared in my dream as the Commissioner.

* * *

"Surely there's someone, Barbara?"

Barbara sipped her beer. "Winston, how many times do I have to tell you? I don't have time for friends, and any I had have long since fallen by the wayside."

Detective Constable Nkata was not going to give up easily. "You have to take someone."

Barbara ran her finger up and through the condensation on her glass. She sighed but did not look up. "Don't tell anyone, especially not the DI, but I'm not going."

Winston nearly choked on his beer. "No! You have to go."

"I don't. I plan to be feeling unwell. I might even take something to make me ill so that it's believable."

"Sergeant Havers! I'm shocked."

She looked up and glared at him. "Oh, don't be so self-righteous, Winston. I know you so that that act won't wash."

"You do realise the Commissioner is holding the dinner in your honour?"

"Partly. It's for the team, and mainly the DI. He will revel in it. No one will notice me missing."

"Lynley will."

Barbara shook her head. "No, he won't. The DI will be too pre-occupied being the Eighth Earl of Asherton for Cleopatra."

Winstons frowned. "His new bird? Her name is Cleopatra?"

Barbara laughed. "No, it's Emma, I just call her that because of her... assets."

"What's she like? Turner said she was an absolute stunner."

"Yeah, flawless skin, teeth whiter than snow, long legs, thick black hair that catches the light, beautiful smile. You know the type."

"And no brains?"

"On the contrary. She's a postgrad from Oxford in Archeology. So they can converse after he's..."

"Barbara!"

"Sorry. I find it hard to like her despite the fact she has been polite to me each time we've met. I have a feeling about her. She's far too, 'Oh, Tommy, how simply marvellous', for mine. I don't trust her."

Winston chuckled at her imitation of a bimbo's voice. "Do I detect a note of jealousy?"

Barbara turned and glared at him. "No! How could you say that? I just think she likes his title more than him. He deserves someone who cares about him for who he is, even if he can be the most annoying man on Earth - other than you."

Winston nudged her in the ribs. "Come on, Barbara. It's me. We've worked together for over five years. You can't tell me you don't fancy Lynley."

"He's my friend. That's all. I don't want to see him hurt. Now change the subject before I get mad."

"At least think about taking someone. Maybe you could hire some absolute hunk and make Lynley see what he is missing."

"No! I do not hire men," she hissed, "and I don't need an escort because I am not going. And I don't need to make Lynley jealous. I'm not his type. Never will be, so even if I did fancy him, it's pointless. Now, last warning. I'm serious. Drop it, Winston."

* * *

"Are you looking forward to the award dinner, Winston?" Tommy asked the next night as they sat at the bar of the same pub waiting for Barbara.

Winston hesitated. It was his chance to tell his boss about Barbara's decision. It was not his place, but he felt obliged to say something. Despite her arguments to the contrary, not going would be bad for her career, and reflect poorly on the team. "Yes, Sir."

"You don't seem sure."

"I'm worried about Sergeant Havers."

Tommy looked up. "Why?"

"She isn't keen on the dinner."

"Why not? It's a great honour for all of us."

"You know her, Sir. She'll feel like a fish out of water being alone."

"Alone?"

"She doesn't have friends, Sir. She hasn't got a date. And she won't hire anyone."

His boss raised his eyebrows. "I should hope not. You didn;t suggest that to her did you?"

"I said it half as a joke."

Tommy ran his hand through his hair. "Oh, Winston. You know Barbara is not socially confident. Imagine how she felt hearing someone suggest that the only way she could find a man was by hiring him."

"I hadn't thought of it that way. She was okay. She deserves to be happy. I just wish..."

"What?"

"That the right man would realise what a great person she is."

"He will one day. Someone will come along. In the meantime, we have to convince her to come to the dinner."

"Maybe you can have a word? She won't listen to me."

Lynley cocked his head to one side. "I might have an idea. Leave it with me."

* * *

Tommy left it two days before he dared discuss it with her. His plan was a risky one, but he genuinely believed it might work. As they sat in his car driving back from a routine interview in Richmond, he decided to test the waters.

"Barbara, feel free to say no, but I was wondering if you might do me a favour?"

His sergeant was relaxed and smiled at him. "Sure, what?"

"I have a friend I went to Oxford with who has recently left the Anglican priesthood. After nearly twenty years locked up in a monastery, I am trying to help him integrate back into normal society. I was hoping you might come out with us on Saturday. Emma is away at a conference in Ghent, and it would be nice to have mixed company."

"The three of us?"

"Yes, I thought just dinner at the pub and a few drinks."

"I'm not much good at that sort of thing, Sir."

"It's just a meal."

"What's his name?"

"Gary. Gary McCrae."

"Gary? You have a friend called Gary?" Barbara sniggered.

"Yes. What's funny about that?"

It's very... ordinary."

"He's the son of a school teacher from Bolton. He won a scholarship to Oxford."

"Why did he leave?"

"The monastery? He called it a crisis of faith in the church."

"So was he... like the Catholics?"

"Yes, it is a closed, scholarly order. They are celibate if that's what you mean. Gary was one of their historians, specialising in medieval religious manuscripts."

"So he would have absolutely nothing in common with me."

"That's the point. He wants to meet people from other backgrounds."

Barbara shrugged. "Yeah, all right. He might be interesting."

* * *

Dinner went far better than Tommy had imagined. Gary had happily discussed the church, and his experiences then retold several stories about Oxford that Tommy would have preferred remained buried.

"Enough, Gary. Barbara doesn't want to hear about my youthful misdeeds."

"Yes, I do."

Tommy glared at Barbara who smiled cheekily at him. "I am not proud of breaking into the Dean's apartments, nor of stealing the flag from Brasenose College."

Gary nudged him in the ribs. "Or of trying to sleep your way through St Hilda's?"

Tommy stared at the table. "No, especially that."

Barbara squeezed his arm once, and he looked up. "Nice to know my boss is human."

"You knew that already."

Barbara smiled at him in a way that made everything in the world seem right. It was unnerving the way she did that. He grinned back in the half-amused, half-loving way that he only ever shared with her.

Gary intruded on the moment. "It's getting late. I should head home. I used to go to my cell at eight and wake at four. I'm still not used to the hours that civilised society keeps."

Tommy glanced at his watch. It was just after ten. "It was a good evening, despite you trying to ruin my reputation. I'll take you home, Barbara."

"You live near Camden, right?" Gary asked.

"Yeah, Chalk Farm."

"I'm staying near Stoke Newington. You're on my way. Saves you traipsing across town, Tommy."

"I don't mind. I often take Barbara home." Gary raised his eyes, and Tommy scowled. "She's my partner. I look after her." Even to his ears, his emphasis on I had sounded proprietary. He noticed Barbara bristle.

"Thank you, Gary. That's kind. We can share a cab. I'll see you Monday, Sir."

"If you're sure," Tommy muttered.

Gary bent down. "I'll look after her for you, old boy. I can see what she means to you."

Tommy tried to smile as they stood. It soon faded when Barbara laughed at something Gary said as they waved before they went through the door. He walked across to the bar and ordered a double whiskey.

* * *

"You got home safely then," Tommy said as Barbara climbed in the Bristol on Monday morning.

Barbara pulled on her seatbelt but did not look at him. "Yes. Gary was the perfect gentleman."

"I'll bet he was." Tommy thought he should change the subject. "Did you do anything interesting yesterday?"

Barbara hesitated, and he looked across at her. Colour flooded her face. "Gary and I took a boat to the zoo."

Tommy's knuckles whitened as he gripped his steering wheel. "Nice day for it."

"Yes. It was good. I haven't been for years."

"Hmm."

"Sir, if it's alright with you, I want to ask Gary to accompany me to the dinner."

Barbara sounded nervous. Tommy felt guilty about his overreaction. He had planned for Barbara to like Gary and invite him to their dinner. Otherwise, he would not have bothered introducing them. What he had not planned was the way it angered him. It was ridiculous. He wanted Barbara to be happy, and to have friends. At least that was what he was trying to persuade himself, but he had felt the same way when she had used the dating agency, and of course when she had shown an interest in Azhar. He could not understand why her going out with other men upset him so much. Barbara never showed any emotions about his women.

He painted on a broad smile, hoping it would convince both of them. "Of course it's alright. It'll be good for him, and nice for you to have company. So do you think we should interview the driver again before the wife? Or do you think she was capable of murdering her husband without help?"


	2. Chapter 2

Tommy and Emma arrived late for the dinner because, as usual, Emma had taken an eternity to do her makeup. Lynley hated the artificiality of it all. He smiled thinking that if it had been Barbara, she would have been showered, dressed and standing by the door waiting for him to knot his bowtie.

The dinner was being held in the ballroom of one of London's finest hotels. Emma clung onto his arm as they searched for the table at the front reserved for his team. They navigated through the maze of tables covered in cream linen and adorned with gleaming cutlery, flower arrangements on stands, and ornately carved chairs. Winston and the young Constable from traffic he was dating were sitting chatting to DC Turner and his wife. Hillier was talking to a woman Tommy did not recognise. She turned, and Tommy stopped dead. It was Barbara, and she looked amazing in an emerald, low-cut evening gown that hugged her hips. She was much curvier and sexier than he had ever imagined. Tommy tried not to stare, but his eyes were mesmerised by the way the dress shimmered in the light.

Barbara looked across and smiled. "Good evening, Sir."

"Good evening, Barbara. You look... sensational."

The familiar blush started on her chest and quickly flooded her neck and cheeks. "This old thing..." She moved closer. "It was Gary's idea."

On cue, Gary extended his hand. His other hand settled around Barbara's waist, a gesture that infuriated Lynley. "Good to see you, Tommy. Barbara was getting worried..."

"I was not," Barbara cut in, "I merely said it was unlike you to be late."

Tommy tried to hide his amusement. He knew she would have been worried. He would have been the same if she were late. He jerked his head towards Emma and rolled his eyes. Barbara's smile turned into a knowing grin.

"Emma, you know Barbara. This is Gary, an old friend of mine from Oxford."

Emma extended her hand and smiled warmly. "A pleasure. And how do you know Barbara?"

"Tommy introduced us." Gary was gawping at Emma. Oddly, Tommy was not jealous, but angry. Gary was Barbara's guest, and he should not be ogling other women, especially when he had a woman as attractive as Barbara on his arm. His sergeant was insecure enough in social settings, but tonight she looked so different, not only in dress but demeanour. The Barbara he thought he knew so well would have been awkward and embarrassed, but instead, she was radiant. He knew it was Gary's doing, and in the pit of his stomach he understood why.

Emma turned to Barbara. "Barbara, that dress suits you. It is so your colour. It brings out your eyes. Such an intense green. You look beautiful."

Barbara smiled shyly and blushed again. "Thanks."

Arriving late, they only had time for a quick drink before taking their seats. Barbara was next to Winston with Gary on her right. Emma was next to Gary, and Tommy was between her and Hillier's wife. He looked across to see Barbara watching him. Her eyes laughed at his predicament. He shrugged which made her smile.

Before the speeches, Hillier and his wife dominated his attention so it was natural that Emma would chat with Gary and Barbara. When he glanced over, Gary was huddled conspiratorially with Emma discussing medieval burial rites. Barbara was talking with Winston, but turned and gave him a half shrug.

After the main course of tender venison with wild mushrooms, Hillier puffed up his chest and strutted to the stage. A long and tedious self-aggrandisement followed before he handed the microphone to the Commissioner. She, in contrast, was an excellent speaker. Tall, with ruby red hair that cascaded over her shoulders instead of being trapped in her usual tight bun, she cut an impressive figure.

"We are here tonight to honour the winners of the annual Matt Devlin Memorial Trophy for excellence in crime resolution. Detective Inspector Thomas Lynley and his CID squad, DS Barbara Havers, DC Winston Nkata, DC Bill Turner and Analyst Josephine Beaumont, have the highest clear up rate of any Met team. They also recently solved the serial murder of 16 patients in St Thomas' Hospital. It was a long, arduous investigation, but as usual, the team was able to uncover the clues that will ensure the nurse who should have been caring for the patients, spends many years in prison contemplating her actions."

Tommy looked around the table. His team looked proud and happy as they watched the Commissioner except for Barbara, who was watching him. They exchanged soft smiles. It had been Barbara's suspicion that had led them to the nurse. Without that, they would still be investigating.

The Commissioner continued. "So I would like to call upon DI, or actually I should say, as of tomorrow, DCI Lynley, to say a few words."

Tommy had expected to be asked to speak. He quickly covered off his thanks to Hillier, and the Commissioner then spoke about the dedication and professionalism of his team. "I would like to point out that science and evidence only take us so far in policing. Without instinct, many a criminal would go free." Tommy paused. He looked straight at Barbara, and she was looking back at him. It seemed as if everyone else in the room had vanished. "In this case, it was DS Havers' feeling about one nurse, and her persistence in chasing down this woman's background and life, that led us to the breakthrough. Over the last decade, many people have been bemused by our volatile partnership. Our methods might be unorthodox, but we get results, helped of course by Winston, Bill and Jo. Sergeant Havers and I make a great team. Thank you for putting up with me, Barbara, and long may our partnership continue."

"Here, here!" There was general applause and congratulations. Tommy accepted the trophy from the Commissioner then took it back to the table. With his hand on her shoulder, he passed Barbara the trophy, then bent down and gave her a quick peck on her cheek.

The Hilliers excused themselves to visit the main table. Tommy turned back to Emma, but she and Gary were still discussing torture and the Inquisition as a legitimate tool for controlling medieval peasants' beliefs. Tommy was about to call Barbara over when a waiter brought dessert.

As he finished his chocolate macadamia tart, the band began to play. "Care to dance?" he asked Emma.

"Thank you, Tommy."

Gary turned to Barbara. "Shall we?"

"Oh no. Sorry. I don't dance. But you go ahead."

"By myself? Come on sweetie. I haven't danced in years."

 _Sweetie?_ Tommy felt bile rise in his throat. How dare Gary call her sweetie!

Emma patted him on the arm. "Oh, that's such a waste. Tommy, would you mind? I'll dance with you, Gary."

Tommy glowered at Emma. "Of course." He thumped into the seat beside Barbara as his girlfriend and Barbara's boyfriend took to the dance floor.

"Sorry," she said.

He turned to reply but stopped when he saw her expression. She felt sorry for him, and it annoyed him. Everything about the night began to anger him. "Why? Emma is simply being polite."

"Of course. Did you enjoy dinner?"

"Not much. I was trapped discussing modern policing methods with Hillier."

"I noticed he had you enthralled."

Tommy smiled. "Was I that obvious?"

"Only to me."

His smile became a grin. "I'm afraid I neglected Emma."

"She was fine. She and Gary found they had a lot in common. They never stopped talking."

"That's odd. She normally never says much."

"Maybe..." Barbara paused. "Maybe because they are both into history."

Tommy watched Emma as she danced. Her body slowly crept closer to Gary. "I think it's more than that."

"Yeah. Sorry, Sir."

"For me? Why? I should be the one apologising. I introduced you. And..."

"I'm not in love with him."

"But... I didn't mean... I'm not in love with Emma either."

"You're not?"

"No. She's fun, but it's not serious."

"Does she know that?"

Tommy looked across at the dance floor. "I believe so. Will you dance with me, Barbara?"

"To make them jealous?"

"No, because I want to dance with the most beautiful woman in the room."

"Then you don't want to dance with me."

Tommy grinned at her. "Yes, I do. Barbara. Just because you're my partner, and my best friend, it doesn't mean I'm blind." Tommy took her hand and brought it to his lips. "But before you lecture me about being superficial and only seeing your beauty in that gown, I want to say that it's not the fact you look incredible, it's your beautiful heart I've always seen."

"Sir!" Barbara blushed again, and Tommy watched the colour fill her cheeks. "Dance with me, Barbara."

"But..."

Tommy stood. "Dance with me."

Barbara took his hand. "You'll regret this when your toes are in plaster."

* * *

An hour later they were still dancing. The Commissioner and her husband left, and many people began to follow. Barbara had enjoyed being in his arms, but the music was slowing. His scent enveloped her, and the feel of him against her was becoming unbearable. She was scared he would notice her true feelings. "I should go home, Sir."

Tommy pulled her closer if that were possible. "Not yet."

"Then could we sit down for a few minutes? My calves are killing me." That was genuine and would allow her time to regroup.

"Only if you promise to dance with me again."

Barbara shook her head reluctantly. "Oh, alright."

Gary and Emma were back at the table lost in a conversation about Tudor England. Gary looked up and smiled. "I thought you didn't dance."

"The DI can be a very persuasive man, but now I'm worn out."

Gary turned to Emma. "I'm tired too. I should escort Barbara home."

"No!" They all turned to look at Tommy. "I'm happy to escort Barbara if you're tired."

"I am not used to late nights yet."

"I'm tired too, Tommy," Emma said.

"Well, what if you take Emma home, Gary, and I'll escort Barbara."

Emma looked confused. "Tommy? Do you mean for Gary to take me to your place?"

"No. Might be best if you go back to yours tonight. I'll call you tomorrow."

"If you're sure."

Gary turned to Barbara. "Barbara?"

"That's fine, Gary. Tommy drops me home all the time."

Gary and Emma exchanged quick, relieved glances. "Thank you."

Barbara waited until they were alone. "Are you sure about that? I think they might... spend the night together."

"Good luck to them."

"You don't mind?"

"Not if you don't. Emma was only ever... a distraction. I think we should leave."

For once, Barbara was not sure how to read his eyes. "Sure."

She allowed him to take her hand as they said farewell to Hillier. Barbara enjoyed the look on their boss's face when he saw their fingers entwined. Tommy led her into the foyer.

"You do know you are going to have to explain that to Hillier on Monday. You arrive with one woman. I come with someone. They leave together and now so do we."

"I'll tell him I pulled your keys out of the bowl."

Barbara hit him hard on the arm. "Tommy Lynley!"

Tommy stopped walking and turned to her. "Say that again."

"What?"

"Call me Tommy."

"I... no. It wouldn't be right."

"Why not?"

 _Because it steps over a barrier._ She sighed. "Just for tonight. Thank you, Tommy."

"For what?"

"Your speech. Dancing with me. Making the night special."

"Barbara?"

"Mmm?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"Wait here." Barbara frowned as he walked over to the reception desk.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note:** Don't forget this was a dream, so yes, the night manager did look a lot like Tom Hiddleston ;) The dream stopped at the point marked with an * when the sappy music became the soundtrack to a kiss. Here I have incorporated the same music differently for dramatic, or rather schmaltzy, purposes.

* * *

Tommy used his Lord Asherton charm and platinum credit card to secure what he wanted. "The room will be ready in five minutes, M'Lord," the night manager said deferentially. "Do you have luggage?"

"No. It's a spur of the moment decision."

"Very well, M'Lord." Tommy knew how it looked, but he was grateful for the night manager's completely neutral efficiency.

Tommy went back to Barbara. "They need a few minutes."

Barbara eyed him suspiciously. "For what?"

"You'll see."

"Tommy... I don't..."

He smiled and took her hand. "It's not what you think."

"I never..."

"Lord Asherton." Rather than a porter, the night manager was personally escorting them. He led them to the old wrought iron gate of the antique open lift that sat next to modern ones. The lift clunked and groaned as it ascended. When the night manager opened the gate, they stepped into a private suite. The room was large, wallpapered in a subtle gold and cream pattern. A large lounge had been pushed from the centre towards a side wall. There was a mahogany desk against the opposite wall but no other furniture. Tommy presumed the bedroom was behind the floor-to-ceiling mahogany door on the side wall. He had asked for their best suite with separate rooms so as not to give Barbara the wrong impression.

Barbara's hand tensed in his palm. He looked across and smiled. "It's okay. Trust me."

"I think you will find this satisfactory M'Lord," the night manager said as he opened the French doors onto a Juliet balcony that overlooked the lights of London and the Thames.

"Thank you." Tommy let her hand go as he pressed twenty pounds into the man's hand as he shook it.

Barbara wandered to the doors and looked out. "What a beautiful view."

Tommy followed and stood close behind her. "It's peaceful too, up here away from all the everyday nonsense of our lives."

"Tommy?"

He walked over to the desk and tapped on the screen of the iPad. The lights dimmed, and music began to play softly. He held out his hand. "You promised me another dance."

Barbara smiled as she took his hand. "You did all this just for a dance?"

"Yes." Tommy pulled her gently into his arms. "I didn't want the night to end."

"Neither did I."

"Then we should dance until dawn."

Their dance began as the last one had finished with their bodies pressed together swaying to the music. When Barbara lay her head against his chest, he tucked his chin over it, locking her in his embrace. With Barbara in his arms, Tommy felt invincible. She was the only woman he trusted enough just to be himself. Barbara could see through any facade. She knew him better than he knew himself.

Barbara suddenly stopped moving. "Is this about your promotion?"

"No."

She let go of him and turned to the balcony. "Your speech. Your eyes. Wanting to dance with me. You are trying to tell me, aren't you? This is the end."

"No! No, Barbara. There's no ulterior motive. They're not splitting us up. This isn't about that. And we... we can't end. It's about..." He put his hands on her shoulders.

"What?"

"Us. What we mean to each other."

"Us?"

Tommy stepped closer so that her back was against his chest. "Dancing with you tonight made me realise something for the first time."

"What?"

Tommy felt her shivering, so wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin lightly on her shoulder. "That I was jealous. This time of Gary, but I am always jealous when you show interest in someone else. I thought I was just the controlling type who likes everything to go my way, but it's more than that. I don't want to let you go."

Barbara leant into him, then pushed back and twisted out of his grip. She walked over to the lounge, sat, and began to remove her shoes. "These are killing my toes. What are you trying to say, Tommy? Oh, that is so much better."

He smiled and shook his head. "It's hard to have a serious conversation about this with you rubbing your feet."

"It's alright for you in your flat shoes." She held up her stiletto. "I should have told Gary and Emma that the Spanish only had to make people wear these for four hours and they'd have converted or confessed or done whatever else they wanted them to do. These shoes are an instrument of the Devil."

Tommy laughed. "That's why the inquisitors couldn't use them."

"Ha bloody ha."

He took off his jacket and tie, then sat beside her and put his arm around her shoulder. "That's one of the things I love about you."

"What? That I hate high heels?"

"No. That you don't pretend to be someone or something that you're not."

Barbara ceased her massage and looked up. "Yes. I do. This dress is not really me. Gary saw it in the window of the New to You store. He said it would suit me and make me feel good about myself."

"He was right. You look stunning."

"But the dress didn't make me feel better."

Tommy was surprised. "But you seemed so much more... confident."

"Did I? When you and Winston conspired to get me there, I was determined to pretend that I was having a wonderful time."

"We didn't conspire."

"No? I suppose you expect me to believe that introducing me to Gary just before the dinner was pure coincidence?"

"No. I wanted to make sure you came and that you didn't feel alone."

"And I appreciate the thought, but it did make me feel alone. In all the time I've known you, I never felt more alone. You had Emma, and it seemed like you were saying, poor old Havers can't get a date unless you give me one."

Tommy hugged her closer and looked into her eyes so that she knew he meant it. "I'm sorry."

"You meant well, and no one would ever know. He's a nice guy, but not my type."

Tommy could not help but smile. "Really? I thought you two..."

"Oh, Tommy, that's what I wanted you to think. No, I never even kissed him. I only want to kiss the man I love."

He grinned at her. "Good, because I thought I would have to tear him limb from limb."

"Is that what I should do with Emma?"

"Do you want to?"

"I did, for weeks, until I saw her with Gary and realised she never loved you. It was you I wanted to tear apart, until your speech."

"I... I never saw that side of you. You... the way you looked at me... you looked so confident, so... loving. You made me feel special, and it made me see that there was no one else that could ever make me feel like that."

"I think they should give Oscars for best actress at a police awards dinner."

Tommy dropped his arm from her shoulder and ran his hand slowly through his hair. "So it was all an act?"

Barbara took his hand. "No, not all of it."

"Barbara, I..."

"Shhh." Barbara stood and extended her hand. Tommy accepted it. "Dance with me, Tommy."

He moaned softly as her hand slid under around his waist and her face settled against his shirt. He brought their joined hands in to rest between their hearts.*

Tommy steered them towards the window. The song changed, and Barbara began to chuckle. "What?"

She looked up. "Do you know the words?"

He shook his head. "No. I don't think so."

Barbara began to sing. "What would you think if I told you, I've always wanted to hold you? I don't know what we're afraid of; nothing would change if we made love."**

Tommy remembered the song and grinned at her. "So I'll be your friend. And I'll be your lover. 'Cause, I know in our hearts we agree. We don't have to be one or the other."

Barbara joined in again. "Oh no, we could be both to each other."

Tommy stopped singing, partly in case his lack of tune put Barbara off. "It's true. We could."

"Tommy..." Barbara looked up at him. Even without finishing her sentence, he understood.

"Yes, I'm sure. I thought because I loved you as a friend, that I couldn't, shouldn't, love you any other way. But I do. I understood that tonight. When I was giving my speech, it was as if only you were there. It's only ever been about us, ever since that first case. And when I have you in my arms like this, I'm at peace. I love you, Barbara. And I'm sorry it took me so long to realise it."

"Are you sure? Really sure? Because I can't say it if you're not. I couldn't bear..."

Tommy moved his face close to hers. "I've never meant anything more."

"I love you, Tommy."

He expected their kiss to be tender and romantic. It wasn't. It was fire and need. Years of denial, shared experience, fear and love poured from them. As they stood together, their bodies moulded into each other in an almost frantic desperation.

"Is there a bed in this place or is that couch it?" Barbara said as her fingers tangled in his hair.

"No," there's a bedroom."

"Good. My feet are killing me standing here."

Tommy laughed then shuffled her towards the door. "I hope that's not the only reason you want to lie down."

"You'll have to see, won't you?" She kissed him fiercely. He had no doubt that her feet were the last thing on her mind.

* * *

** Friends and Lovers, Carl Anderson & Gloria Loring, 1985.


End file.
